The beginning of the beginning.

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Ever Decreasing Circles

Stagnant, motionless progress. He wondered how, through so much change, so much reflection and continued improvement from the self loathing, passive aggressive coward he once was, could he find himself in perpetual discontentment. The ever present past, continued to suffocate and shackle any faint murmur of a prosperous and fruitful future, his utmost priority, to make a lasting connection, something that would survive even the most challenging of times, seemed more elusive than ever before.

All that glitters, is not gold…… or words to those effect, wrung overwhelmingly in his ears, what was once offered with an open hand, had been cruelly snatched back with a clenched fist. Trust being his only shortcoming, this time. Those around offered a plethora of platitudes but comfort was in short supply, once again he found himself at a crossroads. With positivity leaking from every pore, he stuttered forward blindly in the hope that fate may take pity, and offer up just the slimmest glimmer of light. A break in the descending cloak of hopelessness. A cloak, that was beginning to show signs of wear.

‘A man has a right to earn’ he coughed,

no murder had taken place, no despicable deed, no untimely suffering, no. A momentary slip, isolated in its occurrence but infuriatingly resilient as an ‘accurate’ and lasting portrayal, peoples unforgiving thirst held an unflinching gravitas. Even now.

The dizzy heights of the corporate room were fading like the sun bleached running shoes that clung desperately to his feet, what form would his future now take? Pride, the guest who had long over stayed there welcome, would require some blunt, heavy handed removal in order to steady the ship. Regional, national and international roles now made way for those of a baked variety, such depths had the fall from grace been, sausage rolls and bacon barms were now the units measured against all target KPI’s. The company German auto marque of distinction was now a dual floored vehicle shared by all and tawdry, the taxation rate being the only digestible sized pill.

‘Too many glass houses and not nearly enough stones’ he thought. Armed with a fist full clenched between his rigid claws, the temptation to uncover those so brazen to point a finger, tested even his most rational of temperaments. The irony and hypocrisy of those who fought to feed the rumour, stuck like an undigested lump in the throat, choking and suffocating.